


In His Place

by DancingForRain



Series: Our Poor Merlin [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I dunno I'm not used to doing this, Violence, Whump, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingForRain/pseuds/DancingForRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on belonging. Merlin has always felt comfortable amongst his noble friends, but not everyone is as accepting of his unique friendship to the king. This is the first story in my 'Our Poor Merlin' series, a collection of Merlin!whump fics.</p><p>Re-posted from FF.net because I can no longer get into my account on there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you recognise this story from FF.net, I did have the NerdBurga account on there, but for some reason I can no longer log in. So I'm going to start using this account.
> 
> If you'd like to give a prompt, feel free to message my tumblr at http://alloverthegaf.tumblr.com/
> 
> P.S this gets stupidly sappy towards the end.

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned around with a start to where Arthur was glaring at him, his hands on his hips awkwardly around the heavy armour.

"Yes sire?" he asked with obvious disinterest.

"I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes! What on earth were you thinking about?" his friend paused and tilted his head to the side slightly. Mockingly. "Or are you really just that daft in the head?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I just zoned out. Don’t worry about it.”

The two were standing in the middle of the training fields where Arthur had been dedicating his energy for most of the morning. Since becoming king he never got quite as much time to work on his fighting skills as he would have liked, with so many other responsibilities suddenly on his plate. The sun was strong in the sky, making Merlin grateful, not for the first time, that he was not a knight. To have to train in this hot weather would surely be the death of him.

And people said being a servant didn’t have its advantages.

"Yes, well, I can understand how hard it must be for you to keep focus, but I would appreciate you trying to listen."

"You’d be losing concentration too if you had to listen to such a droning voice. What did you want?"

The question brought a smile to Arthur’s face, one that Merlin recognised and did not like. Pointing a gauntlet-laden hand towards a battered shield and helmet on the ground, he said “your turn.”

Merlin groaned and immediately took back everything he had just thought about being lucky to be a servant. “You realise we have dummies for this kind of thing, don’t you?”

Arthur’s smile widened. “Yes. And I’d like mine to pick up his shield now.”

Merlin dragged his feet to where the old metal lay without another word, though his face remained sullen. Despite Arthur’s previous amusement, the royal frowned. He had expected a good deal more bickering and complaining than this. Merlin was getting scarily close to obedient, and that was always a sign that something was wrong. “Just what were you thinking about to make you lose your senses for a full five minutes anyway?”

"Nothing," Merlin muttered, slipping the helmet on and immediately feeling his head heat up under the sun. In truth, he’d gotten distracted by nothing more than a bad feeling creeping up the back of his neck. He had the strangest feeling of being watched. He hoped it was nothing more.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and Merlin shook his head. He knew Arthur would just laugh and didn’t feel much like making it easier for him. Clumsily picking up the shield and holding it in front of him, he said “What’s the matter? Worried a prat like you can’t take on one lowly servant?”

It worked; Arthur was well and truly distracted now. He immediately dropped into a fighting stance, and gave his friend one more rather evil grin.

* * *

 

Merlin rested a hand on his lower back and twisted his head back and forth, trying to work the soreness out of his now aching muscles.

"Arthur going just as hard on you as ever, I see," said Gwaine with a grin, walking into the armoury and placing his sword down. His shaggy hair was slicked back slightly with sweat, a testament of how hard all of the knights had worked.

"He enjoys it way too much," groaned Merlin. Gwaine laughed and gave him a light punch on the arm - lighter than usual, Merlin did not fail to notice. He was going easy on him.

"You’ll be right after a night’s rest. I’m sure Gaius can make you some concoction or another to ease the pain of your weary bones."

"If only he had something to cure Arthur of his prat-ness."

Gwaine laughed again and made to leave through the door that lead into the castle, calling behind his back “mate, there’s nothing that could cure him of that.”

Merlin smiled, watching his friend go. But he was suddenly distracted by that same tingle of unease creeping up on him once more. He turned around quickly, taking in the cramped space of the armoury for signs of anyone else being there. No one. What..?

Merlin’s head snapped back to the door, the one that opened onto the fields. It was swinging closed with a light creak. That was… odd.

The feeling continued to follow Merlin around the next few days as he continued on with his duties and chores. He was beginning to feel sufficiently paranoid, having to stop himself from glancing behind him at every turn. Something just felt wrong. He was getting bad vibes from somewhere, and it was starting to fray his nerves.

It wasn’t until a full week after he had first gotten the feeling that the source presented itself. He had been on his way to wake Arthur up, a tray of breakfast in his hands and a ready joke about the king’s weight in his mind when he found himself knocked over, the plate clattering to the floor. Looking up, Merlin was confronted with Sir Adhelm, one of the older and burlier of the knights. He towered over the servant, his shoulders squared, and was obviously not at all concerned about bowling Merlin over.

"My apologies, Sir," Merlin muttered, remembering his manners as he reached out to pick up a bit of wayward sausage.

A small yell of surprise escaped him when suddenly his reaching hand was crushed under the weight of a solid boot. Merlin looked up angrily at the knight who had a small smirk on his face. “Finally on the floor where you belong, hey servant?”

"Sir, if you could please - " Adhelm dug his heel in and Merlin winced, hissing in pain.

"Were you talking to me, servant?" the man asked mockingly. Merlin’s eyes narrowed but he was unsure how to react. With Arthur and his friends among the knights of the round table aside, he knew the natural pecking order as everyone did. A noble or knight always had rank above a commoner, and there were those who used and abused that power as they saw fit. For one lower than them to show the same disrespect back was simply unacceptable.

But Merlin thought of the first day he had met Arthur, seeing him then as just another stuck up noble, and of how he had stood up to him all the same. He didn’t see any reason that should change now.

"Get off me," he growled as his fingers went red with lack of circulation. Whatever tongue-lashing he had been expecting in response did not prepare him for being knocked back with a kick to the head. Merlin found himself suddenly sprawled out a few metres back from his original position. His hands dug into the cold stone of the castle floor as he tried to regain his bearings, squinting his eyes as flaring pain shot through his head. As he looked back up to Sir Adhelm, the world began to spin alarmingly.

All amusement had gone from the older man’s face. Sir Adhelm was getting close to retirement, but he was fit for his age. He was strong, tall and bloody imposing. And now he looked completely pissed. “You will not address me in such a way!” the man bellowed. “You will show me respect!”

Merlin’s eyes began to water and he worried he may have a concussion, but still he attempted to stand. He swayed heavily as he rose but remained firm in his resolve. As things blurred slightly, he could only hope he had directed his glare in the right direction. “I only show respect to those who deserve it,” he stated calmly.

Sir Adhelm growled angrily and advanced, shooting one burly arm out. He pinned Merlin against the wall by the throat, holding on tightly but not yet enough to be dangerous. Merlin stifled a cry as his already sore head was slammed against the stone. “I am a knight! A noble! You are nothing but a lowly peasant! Who out of us do you think deserves the respect?” His hand began to close around Merlin’s throat, cutting the boy off before he could answer. “I have seen the way you act around the King, the other knights! I have been watching you, servant! You think you are equal to them? You think you belong with them?” Adhelm laughed cruelly. “Learn your place! Stop insulting all of us by thinking you may mingle with our kind. You are nothing like us!” His fingers tightened steadily as he spoke and Merlin’s own hands came up to grapple against the grip. His magic buzzed and bubbled under the surface, waiting to be released, to fling Sir Ass-helm across the corridor. Merlin’s slowly muddling brain tried to weigh up his options, tried to figure out if he could risk defending himself so. Adhelm would not fail to scream sorcerer unless he was harmed worse than Merlin intended and if that happened… neither option felt acceptable. But what choice did he have? As his vision began to dim and his lungs screamed for air, Merlin began to think it might be the only way…

And suddenly the pressure was gone, Adhelm was gone, and Merlin was on the ground gasping for air. One hand went to his throat and he winced at the quickly-forming bruises. His stomach turned rebelliously, the pain in his head having reached new levels. But still he looked up, blinking his eyes to try to clear his vision and see what had caused the abrupt release.

Adhelm was up against the opposite wall as Merlin had been only moments before, looking terrified. At his throat was a sword held steady, and holding onto that sword…

"Arthur," he croaked, relief flooding through him.

"You alright, Merlin?" Arthur asked, not taking his eyes off of the trembling knight in front of him. Merlin nodded, knowing full well the king could not see him, but finding himself unable to answer. Arthur seemed to get the message anyway. "Care to explain yourself Sir Adhelm?" he asked.

"Sire," the man said quickly "I was simply trying to teach the servant some manners, you see - "

"By killing him?!" Arthur interrupted, his voice brimming with anger. "Oh yes, well done, that would have gotten the message across." Adhelm simply watched his king in fear, his mouth shutting with an audible snap. "Please keep in mind, Sir Adhelm, that Merlin is  _my_ manservant, and will therefore receive discipline from _me_. Unless you do not trust me to take care of my own problems?” the question was a challenge.

One that the knight was not willing to meet. “No, sire, of course not - “

"Good." said Arthur coldly. "Let’s keep it that way, hmm?" Adhelm nodded nervously and Arthur slowly drew the sword away from his throat. "Off you go then."

Adhelm immediately backed away, only turning when he was no longer in reach of Arthur’s sword, and began to walk as quickly as he could. “And Sir Adhelm?” The knight looked back with real, genuine fear in his eyes, and Merlin could not help but be pleased to see it there. “If I find you beating on my servant again, there will be dire consequences.” Adhelm nodded again and rushed away, the threat hanging over him like a cloud. Only once he had turned the corner did Arthur turn to Merlin, who was still on the floor. “Of all the idiotic things…” he muttered, walking over to him and reaching under Merlin’s arms to haul him into a standing position. Merlin immediately began to tip and Arthur’s hands shot back out to grab a steadying hold of him. “You had to go and piss off a knight, didn’t you?”

Merlin didn’t answer and avoided his master’s eyes. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sir Adhelm’s words were ringing in his ears. Perhaps it was just the lack of oxygen and now definite concussion getting to him, but Merlin suddenly felt much less certain about his various friendships in Camelot. He had never really thought about it before now, but all of his closest friends were far above him in rank. Even Guinevere, who had bonded with him as a serving woman to the Lady Morgana, was now Queen. How had this not crossed his mind before?

"…Merlin. Oi, Merlin! Open those ridiculously big ears of yours, will you?" Merlin realised his master was trying to get his attention. He turned his head in the direction of the voice but continued to avoid looking him in the eyes. He told himself it was just because he was dizzy. "Are you listening Merlin?" He nodded his head slightly and regretted it immediately as another wave of nausea hit him. He heard a sigh. "I heard what he said, Merlin. Not all of it, but… enough." Merlin tried not to cringe at the admission. He was vaguely aware that his feet were moving, and he was still leaning heavily on the royal. But that couldn’t be right, could it? A noble wasn’t supposed to carry his servant was he? Merlin brought one shaky hand up to his head; he was beginning to feel confused.

"Where’re we goin’?" he slurred.

"Gaius’ obviously," huffed Arthur. "And don’t change the subject." Merlin wasn’t aware he had been. Everything was fuzzy. "I’m trying to tell you something important here, Merlin. I’d appreciate it if you payed attention."

"Sorry, sire," he murmured, his voice scratching against his sore throat.

"No, don’t - don’t apologise. Not now," Arthur sighed. "Look, just… tell me that ass didn’t get to you." When he was given no answer, Arthur continued. "For all your faults and moments of idiocy, Merlin, I would have thought by now it was clear even to you that…" there was a brief hesitation. "of course you are our equal. Maybe not in rank, officially, but…"

Merlin was now focusing hard, despite his bleary thoughts. Was Arthur actually… complimenting him?

"Look, all I’m saying is people like Adhelm are wrong. We - I - appreciate… you. What you do for us. Who you are to us. I wouldn’t change how things are, and I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t change how we are." A small smile danced across Merlin’s lips; he knew how much it must be paining his master - his friend - to say such things. The smile fell as he realised he must look worse off than he had thought. "So just… don’t go getting all quiet on me, will you? Merlin? You still with me?"

It took a small shake on Arthur’s part for him to zone in again and realise Arthur was expecting an answer. He forced himself to finally look up at his master, his king, his friend, who let out a breath of relief. “Why wouldn’t you answer me?” he asked, sounding more like his annoyed self.

"I t’ld you…" Merlin slurred, "c’n nev’r conc’ntrate ‘n your voice. Is too.. Droning."

And with that, he passed out.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because someone wanted a follow-up to what happened in Chapter One.

Gaius had often found it worrying the amount of times his door was slammed open in urgency. There was always some injured knight or poisoned noble or man who had fallen off a ladder to tend to. But Gaius was well trained with many years of experience under his belt. Whenever a victim was dragged through his door, he would be ready with the kind of professionalism worthy of the royal physician.

Of course, he could only remain so stoic when it was his own ward being rushed into the room. When Arthur had suddenly appeared with a limp Merlin on his arm, he felt he was justified to a moment of worry and shock before old habits took over.

"Lay him down here," the old man said hurriedly, gesturing to the empty cot. Arthur did so with a grimace, positioning Merlin as comfortably as he could. The warlock's eyes were half closed and he didn't appear to be lucid. "What happened?"

Stepping back so Gaius could examine Merlin, Arthur forced down an angry growl. "Someone thought he had to be 'put in his place'," he said with disgust, staring down at his manservant. "And that apparently they were the one for the job."

Gaius held one of Merlin's eyes open wide and ignored the anger suddenly coursing through him. " _Did_ they now?"

"I took care of it," Arthur reassured, though he didn't sound quite satisfied with the statement. "Probably let the bastard get off a bit lightly, to be honest."

"You saved Merlin, sire, and that is all that we can ask," Gaius replied. He was at this point gently prodding the back of Merlin's head where there was matted blood in his hair. He frowned. It was a large wound. "Was he struck on the head?"

"Merlin was… up against the wall when I found him," said Arthur. He sounded slightly haunted by the memory. "I don't doubt Sir Adhelm used force to get him there." Gaius' eyebrow raised and he now turned his attention to a dark bruise just to the side of Merlin's left eye.

"Sir Adhelm did this?"

"I am as shocked as you."

It was at this point Gaius noticed the bruises layered over Merlin's throat, half covered by his red neckerchief. The anger within him rose, battling with his forced professionalism. But before he could say anymore, Merlin groaned and turned onto his side, his face going a new shade of pale, and Gaius saw what was going to happen moments before it did.

The disfigured contents of Merlin's breakfast landed in the hastily proffered bucket and Merlin continued to retch, his body shaking with the effort. His eyes squeezed shut and his hand gripped the edge of the cot.

"Gaius?" Arthur's voice came from behind him, sounding worried. Merlin finally finished retching and collapsed back onto the cot, his body going slack.

"Pass me that rag, please. And there should be some water, on the table."

Arthur obeyed silently and watched as Gaius lay the now damp rag on Merlin's forehead. "Is he… okay?" The king winced at such a ridiculous question, but Gaius didn't seem to notice.

"Was he conscious the whole time you were bringing him to me?"

There was a short pause. "He fainted. For a few minutes."

Gaius nodded, confirming what he had already known. "He has a rather severe concussion. Sir Adhelm did not hold back." The old physician couldn't quite keep the anger out of his voice, this time. "We will have to keep a close watch on him."

Arthur nodded as Gaius leant in and tried to get Merlin's attention. "Merlin? Can you hear me?" There was no answer, and Arthur felt himself tense. If Adhelm had done anything permanent to his servant… "Come now, boy, talk to me." This time there was a slight moan of acknowledgement and Merlin turned his head to the direction of Gaius' voice, but still did not open his eyes. This wasn't enough for Gaius; "look at me, Merlin." Quite frankly, it wasn't enough for Arthur either. He needed those blue eyes to look at him, to recognise him, to prove that he was okay. Finally, Merlin cracked open one eye, but swiftly shut it again.

"Hurts," he muttered, rolling onto his stomach to bury deeper into the pillow.

"I know it does, my boy," said Gaius and it was with such tenderness Arthur suddenly felt he shouldn't be there, intruding on the moment. "But please, look at me."

Merlin took a deep breath, as if preparing himself, and turned his head out from the pillow, slowly opening both eyes as he did so. His expression turned pained at the small movement. "'s bright," he complained. Arthur glanced at the overcast sky out the window and the candles, all unlit, around the room. His stomach did a small, nervous flip.

"You're being such a girl, Merlin," he said unhappily, trying to cover up his concern. For the first time Merlin's dazed gaze settled on him and Arthur had never appreciated that pure blue more.

"'rthur?" came the mumble.

"Yes, _Mer_ lin. Who else would it be?"

Merlin sighed, his eyes closing again. "'m glad it's you," he murmured, so softly Arthur doubted he'd even realised he had spoken aloud. He was secretly touched all the same and had to quickly look down at his shoes. When he looked up again Merlin's breathing had evened out, his mouth hanging out slightly.

Arthur panicked. Wasn't Merlin supposed to be staying awake? "Merlin - "

"It's alright sire. Let him rest." Gaius remained seated by his ward, watching him quietly. "I will wake him soon to check on his condition. That is all we can do for now."

Arthur nodded briskly and straightened. "Good. Okay. Very well." He paused awkwardly and Gaius looked back at him, almost amused. Arthur tried not to go red. "Do you need - "

"I will send for you if I need you, sire." Gaius reassured. "There is not much you can do for Merlin now."

"Right." Arthur nodded again and headed to the door, still hanging open from when he barged in. He stopped with one foot outside the chambers and looked back at the physician, who's attention had gone back to Merlin once more. "Gaius?" The older man looked to him and Arthur fought to keep eye contact. "He'll be okay, of course?" He fought to keep his voice steady, authoritative.

Gaius inclined his head with a small smile. "Of course, sire."

"Good." and with that the king left.

* * *

 

"He what?!" Gwaine stood up so quickly he almost knocked over his mug of ale, but he barely noticed. It was late evening and Arthur had found him easily enough at the tavern. "Merlin's concussed? Who did it? Who did that to him?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's not important - "

"Of course it's important, princess. I'd hate to end up throttling the wrong man."

"I took care of it, Gwaine."

Gwaine studied him suspiciously. "Did you?"

"Yes," was the answer through gritted teeth; Arthur did not need Gwaine's doubts adding to his own. "And there is a much more productive way you can help."

"I'm all ears," Gwaine said seriously, and anyone would have thought he hadn't already downed three drinks.

"We need someone to keep an eye on Merlin. Gaius has to go to the lower towns tonight to assist in a birthing, and I've been called into a council meeting."

"And naturally council meetings always come first," Gwaine said sarcastically. Arthur glared at him.

"I'm not exactly happy about it either. Look, can you just, stay with him for a while?" 'Please' would never escape the king's lips, but Gwaine heard it hanging desperately on the end all the same. Even if he hadn't, his answer would have been the same.

"Course I can."

* * *

 

"Merlin?" Gwaine nudged the young boy's shoulder gently, waking him up every hour as instructed. The last few times Merlin had awoken very grudgingly, slower each time, and it seemed this was to be no exception. "Come on, mate, rise and shine."

There was no response. Merlin's chest continued to rise and fall, settling the irrational part of Gwaine's mind that was just one wrong move from full-blown panic mode, but he still did not take this as a good sign. His nudged his friend's shoulder slightly harder. "Wake up, Merlin." Still no reaction. Not even a twitch of his nose. The panic began to rise, and after a full minute of trying, Gwaine could take no more. He rushed from the room and found the nearest person he could, regretting every moment he spent from the unconscious servant's side. He gave the serving woman a message of most urgency and without haste ran right back to the physician's chambers and his friend within.

* * *

 

Merlin had been okay in the end. After a smoking concoction from Gaius held under the boy's nose, Merlin had startled awake, and was forced to remain awake the rest of the night. It was only when the sun had risen the next morning Merlin was allowed back into the land of slumber, and the rest of them had breathed a sigh of relief.

"We are lucky Gwaine sent for me at once," Gaius had murmured quietly to Arthur across the room from where Gwaine was sitting at Merlin's side. At some point through the night the other knights had heard the news and were currently with Gwaine, having to see with their own eyes that Merlin was indeed alright. Arthur vaguely wondered if Merlin knew just how much of an impression he had made with his time here. Gwen had visited earlier but was ushered from the room by her concerned husband, insisting she got some sleep. "Merlin's mind has been active enough now that there should be no problem, but at the time it had been slowly shutting down. If no one had been there to wake him…" Gaius had not finished the sentence. He hadn't needed to.

As it was now, Arthur was stalking down the quiet corridors of a slowly waking castle. He was fully dressed and completely awake, and he was on a mission. Finally reaching the right set of doors Arthur opened them without ceremony.

The occupant of the large bed immediately jumped awake, his eyes widening in sleepy surprise. The man shook his head to focus but when he saw who was standing unannounced in his room, his eyes widened even more. "M-my lord," he tried.

"Sir Adhelm," said Arthur, and silently he revelled in how calm he sounded. "It seems I made a mistake earlier, regarding you and your… actions."

Adhelm's posture relaxed slightly, and he smiled. "Oh, sire. I do not blame you for being upset, he is your manservant after all. I was only doing my duty of keeping the order."

Arthur shook his head, never looking away from the snake. "You misunderstand me, Adhelm. I obviously let you off much too easily."

Adhelm's face became one of confusion. "But - sire?"

"I would have let it go. I wouldn't have been happy, but I would have," Arthur explained. "I would have simply kept an eye on you and made sure you would know the consequences if you had tried anything like that again." One hand came to rest easily on the hilt of Arthur's sword, but he put it down to nothing more than instinct, rather than threat. "Except last night I almost lost the manservant you had hurt with such cowardice. And so I have reconsidered what to do with you." There was a slight pause where Adhelm looked scared, looked older and more vulnerable than before, and Arthur revelled in it. "You are stripped of your knighthood and nobility. I expect you out of this castle by midday."

"But - my lord, please, I - "

"You were right, Adhelm," said Arthur, cutting him off. "People must know their place. And yours is not within the walls of Camelot.

That was it. No ceremony, no official decree, no public humiliation. Arthur simply wanted the stain out of his home, and finally he felt he had done right by Merlin. He sustained his regal expression until he had walked out and was heading back to his own chambers for some much needed rest. Only then did he allow the satisfied smirk grow.


End file.
